


walking canvas

by mochis



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Body Paint, Boys In Love, Crushes, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Painting, Secret Crush, Teenage Dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 14:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochis/pseuds/mochis
Summary: Yusuke approaches Akira with a proposition during their afternoon coffee.





	walking canvas

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my drive folder for a good month, and now that i've finished the game, i figured it was about time to post it 
> 
> yusuke completely stole my heart on my first playthrough like holy FUCK he's my everything 
> 
> atlus you fuckin cowards let me date my artist boy

“May I paint on you?”

The question threw Akira off guard in the middle of the coffee he had been drinking, and he nearly spat the hot drink out were it not for the hopeful way Yusuke was looking at him. 

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, and managed to clear his throat enough to intelligently reply, “What?”

“Well,” Yusuke kept his hands folded in his lap, legs crossed on one of the bar stools in Leblanc’s. “I had heard about this trend a few days ago from a few of my classmates. Painting one’s back - with washable paint, of course. She explained it to be quite relaxing for both the painter and the one being painted on.”

The idea intrigued yet terrified him at the same time. The concept of being painted on actually  _ did  _ sound like a fun experience, but the fact that it would be  _ Yusuke _ doing the painting was what scared him. Not that he was scared of Yusuke; rather, it was the complete opposite. It was a painfully obvious one-sided attraction, from what Akira knew of. He assumed that Yusuke was too absorbed in his own aspirations and artwork to realize his pining. 

“Why...Why don’t you ask someone else from the group? I’m probably too lanky to even paint on.” Akira tried a laugh, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. 

The boy next to him shook his head, “I didn’t think it would be appropriate to ask one of the girls, for obvious reasons, and I don’t think Ryuji could lie still for that long, anyway. Also, Morgana is a cat.” 

Those  _ were  _ sound reasons. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but are you  _ sure _ I’m not too pale or pasty to work on?”

“Of course not,” Blue eyes met gray, and Akira knew that the flush from his cheeks wasn’t from the heat of the coffee in front of him. “I believe you would be the perfect canvas. It would actually be better, since your paleness nearly matches that of a blank canvas.”

Since it was coming from Yusuke, it was probably a compliment, but Akira still inwardly groaned at the metaphor. So he  _ was  _ pasty. 

Then again, if he was pasty enough to be considered the “perfect canvas” by Yusuke, he’d gladly take the chance to be used as one. Even if the paint he used wasn’t washable, Akira would probably never want to take the artwork off of him. 

“I guess I’d be down. What are you gonna paint?” 

“I am not sure yet. But do not worry, I will have something in mind once I am in the moment. Inspiration will undoubtedly strike!”

They agreed to do it the upcoming weekend (well, it was more Yusuke declaring when he was next return to Leblanc with the proper supplies and Akira being powerless to protest against the stubborn artist), once classes were done with and no requests were left to tackle in Mementos. It was Wednesday, which gave Akira plenty of time to mentally prepare himself to get painted on - along with confide in his best friend.

“He wants to paint you?” Ryuji scrunched up his nose as he took a sip from his strawberry milk during their lunch break that next day. The vending machines were out of chocolate. “Like, in the nude?”

_ “No, _ no way,” Akira gave a mortified look, cheeks flushing rose. The mere thought was enough to send him into cardiac arrest. “He wants to paint  _ on  _ me. Like, on my back.” 

Morgana thought it to be quite funny as he lay tucked in the boy’s school bag. He snickered, “Akira would probably combust internally.”

The blonde crushed his box of milk before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. “On your back? That’s weird. Then again, it’s Yusuke we’re talking about. Are you ticklish? I wouldn’t be able to stay still like that for so long.” 

The raven-haired boy shook his head, fidgeting with the straw to his juicebox. “No, I’m not ticklish...but still, I was just surprised that he would ask me that.”

“You’re like his best friend, dude. I dunno how you can stand him.” 

Akira flashed a cheeky grin, “Are you jealous? You’re still  _ my _ best friend.” 

“As if!” Ryuji noogied Akira’s hair before they returned back to class after their lunch break, smudging his glasses in doing so. 

Futaba had heard of what was to come during the weekend from Makoto, who heard it from Ann, who ultimately heard it from Ryuji. It was a classic game of telephone, and yet, Akira wasn’t surprised in the least. It saved him the embarrassment of telling each of his friends in person. 

It was now Friday evening, and he hadn’t heard from Yusuke since Wednesday. Which was to be expected - Yusuke wasn’t the most handy with technology and wasn’t usually the one to initiate conversation over text. At least he replied to group messages. 

“So whatcha gonna do to Akira on Sunday,  _ Inari?  _ It better not be anything funny. _ ” _  Futaba had messaged the group just before bed. He had half the mind to march down to Sojiro’s home and wring the redhead’s neck.

Ann was quick to add on to the conversation. “Send pictures after you’re done! Back paintings always look so cool!”

Just as Akira was about to send a message to clear up any unwanted misunderstandings (mainly from  _ Futaba _ ), Yusuke beat him to the punch. 

“How did everyone catch wind of this so quickly? Nonetheless, I do not know what I will be painting quite yet, but I am certain - as I have told Akira - that inspiration will strike in the moment.” 

However, much to both of their dismay, inspiration did not strike. At least, not straight away as expected. 

Yusuke had arrived to his home at precisely ten am sharp on that following Sunday, his slung over his shoulder full of various brushes and paints (all completely non-toxic and washable, just as he had promised). Sojiro hadn’t looked up from the dishes he was tending to in the sink when the pair stepped into the cafe, but threw a glance over his shoulder coupled with a “don’t make a mess” when they passed by on their way towards the attic. Akira knew the man hadn’t meant it in a dirty way, and probably had no idea about his feelings towards the artist, but he couldn’t help but blush at his words, regardless. 

He took his warning to heart, though. Paint would be a tough smell to get out of the floorboards if they spilled any.

“I must say, I am rather excited,” Yusuke said as he set his bag down on the chair next to Akira’s bed. He pulled out a palette that had been splashed with paint already, along with several tubes of primary colored paints. “Now, I will need for you to strip yourself of your shirt.”

The teen standing awkwardly in the center of his room blinked, startled out of his thoughts. Yusuke wanted him to take his shirt off, right. He could do this. Yusuke had seen him shirtless before at the beach  _ and  _ Hawaii. This would be no different. No big deal, Akira. 

He pulled his shirt over his head and kept it in his hands so he wouldn’t be fidgeting. Figuring it would be better if he didn’t hover over Yusuke like a total creep, he took a seat on his bed as the artist set out his tools on Akira’s desk. Judging by how quick his movements were, Akira would say that Yusuke  _ was  _ actually looking forward to painting on him. Maybe - just maybe - Yusuke wasn’t just excited to paint, but to paint on  _ Akira _ . The mere thought made him smile.

Which Yusuke caught him doing. “Ah, so you’re excited, as well?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, definitely. How is this gonna work, though? Do you want me to stand, or..?”

“No, no, you can sit,” He had his paint set out on his palette and a brush in hand, his lips pursed in thought. “Let me try painting as you sit. Face the other way, please.”

Akira did as he was told, anticipating the chilly texture of a paint brush against his skin, but felt nothing. For a good five or so minutes. Which extended into ten minutes. 

Once it their silence had stretched onto fifteen minutes and there was still  _ nothing  _ happening on his back, he couldn’t keep quiet. “So, um...the inspiration isn’t striking, is it?”

“Unfortunately not.” Yusuke huffed behind him, setting his palette down next to Akira. He stepped back from his “canvas”, a hand on his chin to better survey what he was working with. There were simply so many possibilities, and since it was  _ Akira _ he was working with, he knew it couldn’t be just  _ any _ old idea or image. It had to be as breathtaking and moving as Yusuke’s canvas was. 

Suddenly, an idea struck. “I’m going to try something else. Lay down.” He pressed his fingertips to the boy’s back, pushing him onto his stomach as he picked up his palette once more. Bringing his legs up to rest on either side of Akira’s lower back, he settled himself comfortably onto his body while he dipped his brush into one of his paints. “Yes, this works much better! And it must be much more comfortable for you, as well.”

Fortunately for Akira, this position also hid the brilliant blush that spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. To say he was surprised by Yusuke would be an understatement; but at the same time, he wasn’t  _ too  _ thrown off. Yusuke had a knack for being - well, Yusuke. Which is what he liked about him, if he were honest. “I - Yeah, it’s a little more comfortable, but are you-you okay?” 

“Of course!” He finally pressed the tip of his brush to Akira’s back, and the boy beneath him shivered at the chilly sensation. “Oh, but I apologize if I’m a bit heavy -”

“No, no, dude, you’re not heavy,” Akira couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips, trying to keep his shoulder from shaking too much. “Sorry, I’ll stop moving. What are you gonna paint?”

“You’ll see once I’m finished.” 

“Is it a portrait of Morgana?”

“I - You are too valuable as a canvas to waste on a subject like Morgana.” Yusuke scoffed, his bristles leaving Akira to change colors. “However, I’m confident you will like it. At the very least, I am hoping you will.”

Yusuke called him  _ valuable.  _ That had to count for something, right? Even if he was referred to as a canvas, he was a  _ valuable  _ one, and valuable to  _ Yusuke _ . He knew he was being overdramatic and possibly taking this a bit too seriously, but he couldn’t help it - he was just a school kid with a crush. 

He quickly became accustomed to the brush against his back after a while. It tickled at first, but once the first few strokes began to dry against his skin, it wasn’t as uncomfortable. It was actually rather nice. Nice to enough to doze off for a bit as Yusuke focused on his work. Akira folded his arms under his head and slowly slipped into a dreamless sleep. Yusuke took notice once his breathing evened out, and smiled to himself. 

The next few hours went by in near silence, the only sounds being the occasional splash of water when Yusuke changed colors, and about halfway through their art session, it began to rain. Droplets pitter-pattered against the windows to the attic, but there didn’t seem to be any signs of lightning or thunder, thankfully. A warm cup of coffee was beginning to sound lovely in the midst of the dreary atmosphere outside. 

One final stroke, and the artist withdrew his brush. Gently, so as as not to startle Akira, he touched his fingertips to his left shoulder. “I’m finished.” 

The feather-light touch roused him from sleep. His voice was heavy with sleep as he scrubbed at one of his eyes under his glasses. “‘S done?” 

Yusuke’s cheeks flushed a bit, but Akira didn’t catch it. “Yes.” Remembering he was sitting on top of his best friend, he quickly climbed off of him, setting his palette onto Akira’s desk along with his brush. “I should - is there a mirror?”

The raven-haired boy still in the bed was now a bit more alert now that Yusuke was off of him. He carefully stood from the bed, yawning as he blinked his gray eyes a few times.  _ Mirror,  _ he heard Yusuke ask, and his eyes went to the full body mirror sitting against the far left wall next to the stairs. The paint on his back felt cold against the sudden draft in his room - and it was  _ then  _ he remembered that there was a full painting on his back done by none other than Yusuke Kitagawa. 

His feet carried him towards the mirror in quick strides, Yusuke following him. If Akira didn’t know any better, he’d say the artist looked nervous. But it was brief, only a flash of emotion before it was replaced with his usual poker face. 

Akira turned his back towards the mirror, taking in the artwork done across his skin. Two black wings span his back, beginning at the top of shoulders to the dip in his lower back. A dark red runs through them like veins, outlining the feathers subtly against the bluntness of the black. They’re close to him, unfurled but somehow brimming with energy despite their conservative position, as if waiting for the chance to unfurl into the air. 

“Do...you like it?” For once in his life, Yusuke’s voice is below a murmur. 

The question barely reaches Akira’s ears, his eyes blown wide with awe at the sight in the mirror. He chuckles near breathlessly, turning to face the boy. “That isn’t even a question, Yusuke, I - I  _ love _ it. You did all of this in a couple of  _ hours?” _

A bit of what sounds like relief sneaks into Yusuke’s tone, but he tries his best to mask it. “Well, yes, but I wanted to continue and add a bit more details. However, I did not want to overstay my welcome.”

“You can overstay all you want, this is the prettiest art I’ve seen in...like, my entire life.” Akira laughed, looking at the wings on his back once more. To think Yusuke would do something so incredibly  _ breathtaking  _ on his skin, spend time constructing such a complex wing anatomy against the white of his back for hours - it was an absolute dream. A dream that he was  _ living.  _ “I kinda don’t wanna wash it off. It  _ can  _ wash off, right?”

“I did not  _ tattoo _ it onto you,” Yusuke smiled, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “You would have felt an incredible amount of pain. And you would be bleeding quite profusely.” 

“Yikes. Still, this would make a really cool tattoo...why are they shut, though?”

“That is...that is because they are -  _ your  _ wings, so to speak,” He started, though he had a bit of trouble putting his sentence together. Standing right in front of him, though, gave Akira a crystal clear view of the blush dusted across his cheeks. He had never seen Yusuke blush before. Not like this - not flustered and bashful. “I felt as if you still have an incredible amount of potential, in terms of your power as a persona-user as well as a person, and so it would only be appropriate for your wings to be shut. They have not unfurled because - well, your power has yet to truly reveal itself to me - and-and to the world.” 

His explanation left the boy speechless. He was sure his heart was about to break out of his chest with how hard it was beating. 

Yusuke took his stunned silence as confusion. “It is a strange explanation, I know -”

“Yusuke,” Akira took one of his hands into his own, albeit a bit shakily. He gave a smile, “it isn’t. I really like it.”

The artist looked from their joined hands to Akira’s eyes before finally returning the smile. “I’m glad.” 

A few more moments pass before both of them realize they’ve been holding hands while gazing into each other’s eyes like something out of a romance novel. Yusuke is the first to pull his hands away, coughing into his fist. Akira’s hand ran through his frizzy locks, but his smile stayed on his face. He was beginning to like seeing Yusuke so flustered. Flustered because of  _ him.  _

He glanced from the window to the boy in front of him, “Hey, do you want some coffee? I don’t think the rain's gonna let up for a while.”

Yusuke nodded, eyes lighting up at the mention of free coffee. “I will have to take you up on your offer.” 

Akira was about to reach for his shirt, but thought better of it. He wanted the satisfaction of  serving his crush warm coffee completely shirtless with art probably worth more than his life on his back. 


End file.
